


Claw Marks

by mukur0



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gabriel (Supernatural) is Loki, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No s13 Gabriel, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:36:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19413808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukur0/pseuds/mukur0
Summary: For Sabriel Week Day 1 - Hurt/Comfort.After Michael enters the universe and the refugees are in the bunker, one reveals themselves to be the Gabriel of their world, curious about this one. He wants to know what could have been worth dying for.





	Claw Marks

**Author's Note:**

> Idea by InkStainedWings. Beta'd by Mir567.
> 
> Written for Sabriel Week.

Sam knows the face of too many dead. From friends to lovers to family, it seems like every mile marker has been christened with a pyre. Human beings aren’t supposed to know this much loss; they aren’t built for it, for the keen awareness of time and danger and their own mortality--he’s 36 and he’s seen too many fucking bodies.

But it’s not just the still, waxy faces he knows. Sometimes it’s the moving, speaking, smiling and growling ones, too. The ones he put in the ground or watched take their last breath. He knows Meg Masters’ ghostly figure; he keenly remembers Jessica, a costume that Lucifer put on; Bobby, well, that goes without saying. And Charlie, well, there’s a Charlie that never filled that bathtub with her own blood.

And then there’s Gabriel. 

The first time that he saw Gabriel’s face in the bunker, the melting figure of one of the refugees solidifying into that familiar face, he grabbed a silver knife and went for the heart. Gabriel had grinned that familiar wily grin and let him, allowed the blade to pierce him, tossed Sam a wink that was strangely cold. Sam knew him, but he didn’t know Sam.

The refugees went into a panic but a raised finger had them all freezing. Time slowed down. Sam could feel the familiar shudder and stop and didn’t have to look around to verify that they were the only things moving in the room. For a second his heart rate skyrocketed, that goddamn song echoing in the back of his head--

Gabriel’s hand clapped heavily on his shoulder. “Hey,” he said, “hey, chill out. We’re just talking, homie.”

The song was obliterated. Right. This wasn’t his Gabriel. And he had no reason for any pranks. Right?

...How was he even alive?

Apparently the archangel Gabriel of the “Apocalypse World,” as they’ve deemed it, never came out of hiding. That’s strangely satisfying for some reason. The Winchesters had really made so many differences, so many impacts. (But is this really a good one? It isn’t like Gabriel managed to stop the Apocalypse in return for his sacrifice).

The gods, well...Michael and Lucifer didn’t have a lot of mercy for any god who didn’t bow to them and theirs. According to the refugees it was a coin toss over whether or not any still existed, but a few mentioned having caught glances of eerie things, overheard angels whispering of monsters that even they had to face with wariness. In December they’d heard howls and seen the death shocks of minor angels, which meant the Wild Hunt probably still rode, and isn’t that a nice thought.

Gabriel, well, Gabriel flitted around pretending like he wasn’t an angel, abandoning his guise as Loki to take on whatever form best suited survival. He’d spent a long portion of the carnage in another solar system entirely, abandoning the earth to his brothers, and somehow Sam can’t be surprised. Wasn’t that the plan of this world’s Gabriel, his Gabriel, until he’d met Sam and changed his mind bit by bit?

Look where that had gotten him.

When the rip in the universes opened, it was obvious that Gabriel would sense it even from galaxies away. He said that Andromeda had been very nice, actually. As it was, he was “a nosy little fucker,” in his own words, and he had come snooping around to see just what had Michael all in a tizzy. 

He didn’t say that he’d been in mourning for Lucifer, but he didn’t need to say it. He hadn’t seen his brother since he was tossed into the Cage and afterwards caught only a glimpse of him, mangled, transformed altogether by their Father’s torture device. It was perhaps a mercy that Michael had struck him down quickly.

A master at hiding himself in much smaller shapes, he’d trailed them for a little while. Lucifer, Jack--he could hardly believe his eyes. 

And then there were the Winchesters.

They shone, he said, brighter than anything he had ever seen, brighter than the archangels when God was still with them. Their steps resonated across the earth like the giants of old. They carried with them Fate on their shoulders, broken and bandaged and dear Father but he  _ knew _ that on the other side of that portal there was no Gabriel.

How did you know? Sam had asked. How did you know that my Gabriel was gone?

Not our Gabriel. My Gabriel. And this one, the one that wasn’t his, had given him a shrewd look through his squint.

Because he’s on you, he’d answered. He’s let go of you, and there’s claw marks where he touched.

He wanted to know what was so important that he would die. And not only sacrifice himself, he added, but without progress. After all, they said that Gabriel’s death had not saved the world. And as fond as he was of Kali, he wouldn’t have died for her.

Perhaps he sounded a little regretful at that. Sam could almost hear him whisper,  _ I’m a coward, after all, _ but that was only an echo of his own.

It wasn’t without progress, Sam had answered, and he couldn’t keep the tears this time. This Gabriel, he sat there and watched as Sam sobbed at his loss, at the loss of his own Gabriel. 

And he thought,  _ No one has ever cried for me. _

“I’m not the Gabriel that you know,” he says, as if Sam has to be reminded. But he’s gotten closer. There’s the crinkle at the corner of his eyes now that comes with a real, genuine Gabriel smile. “But I think I’m beginning to understand him.”

He doesn’t have to explain. Sam only smiles at him, sitting at the library table, glad that it’s late and no one else is around because he can feel what’s going to be said and this is the only person he trusts to see him teary-eyed.

“You’re going, aren’t you?” he asks, and even if he knows the answer he stares at the nod like he might just be wrong.

“I’m going to pull my brother home,” he says. It’s like the world falls off of his shoulders. “I can’t kill Michael. Besides his strength, he’s my brother, Sam. But if you open a portal somewhere I can keep it open as long as I need, and I’ll get him home.”

_ And then he’ll kill me. _

He kisses Sam goodbye.


End file.
